Chapter 5 Meeting the Girls
“But they’ll know!”
“Of course they’ll know, dear, that’s the whole point of a girl’s night.”
I squirm on the velvet stool, keenly aware of how exposed I am beneath my new dress.
The satin panties barely cover my cheeks, and, despite how dense the frothy petticoat is, it’s so short that the tent at the front is on almost full display.
Long pink garter straps stretch up my thighs and disappear into the cloud of white lace and silk that keeps my frilly skirt aloft.
Ruffled tiers of sheer silk and solid satin alternate up to my bodice.
The balloon sleeves engulf almost my entire upper arm, exposing only a fraction of skin above the tops of my long pink gloves.
Bows and frills are everywhere: marching along the hem of the skirt, on each garter tab, tucked beneath my chin, at the bottom of each sleeve and the top of each glove.
Even my shoes have them: a bow over each toe, with two more on the ankle straps.
“I don’t — I don’t know if I want other people to — to see me like this.”
“Nonsense, Jessica,” Marilyn purrs as she brushes blush onto my cheeks. “Haven’t we had fun together these last few days?”
“Well, yes, but —”
“Haven’t I shown you all the delicious ways your body can be pleasured?”
“Yes, but —”
“My friends are dying to see if my stories about you are true.”
“You’ve told them stories?” My voice is colored with the high tightness of panic.
“Of course, dear. What do you think we do at girls’ nights?”
“Not — not that!”
“You look darling. They’ll eat you alive.”
I squirm beneath her. That’s what I’m worried about.
“How many are there?”
“Five, and I know they’ll all want to play with you.”
My stomach tightens. “Play?”
“Doesn’t that sound wonderful, dear?”
“I don’t know...”
She sets the brush down on the vanity and I glance at myself in the mirror.
There’s only a hint of masculinity left — enough to be a reminder that I’m a sissy, but not so much that it detracts from the undeniable beauty of my face.
Carmine-red lips that seem permanently pouty, with large eyes that flash with pink glitter when I blink.
“You really don’t want to go?” she asks, her hand sliding up my stockings and leg. Her finger brushes the tent in my panties. “It seems like all of this is very exciting to you. Or is this pathetic little nub just confused about what it wants? Don’t worry — I’ll tell it exactly what to do.”
“It is,” I admit. “I’m just... It’s one thing when it’s you and me. But everyone will know! They’ll think that I’m — I’m —”
My words stammer into moans as she runs her finger up and down the underside of my shaft through the satin panties. A shiver of pleasure runs through me.
“That you’re a delicious little sissy girl, aching to be kissed?
” She demonstrates with a luxurious press of her lips to my neck.
“That you’re so much fun dressed in your frillies?
” Her other hand squeezes my rear and sets my skirts dancing around me.
“That there’s nothing you want more than to be a pretty, delicious plaything for a bunch of gorgeous women who only want you to feel your sissy best?
” My cock twitches against her hand and she pulls back from me with an enormous grin.
“I think you want that very, very much.”
“What are they going to do?”
Marilyn chuckles. “Whatever they want, dear. That’s why you’re dressed like this.”
“Whatever they want? What if they want —”
“Oh, Jessica, you know that good girls like it when people touch them there. You make your biggest spurties when I play with your sissy spot.”
My cheeks go hot. Even though she’s told me countless times by now, it never ceases to embarrass me. But then again, even when I try to push the thought out of my head, I can’t deny how good it feels... or what a rush it gives me every time Marilyn calls me her good girl.
“I — I don’t...”
But my voice falters as she leans forward and kisses me softly on the neck once again.
And then again, a bit higher up. She follows a line across my cheek, pressing gentle kisses one after another until finally reaching my lips, where she lingers longer.
A soft moan escapes from my throat as I kiss her back hungrily.
Her fingers dance along my shaft through the satin panties, drawing little shapes up and down until my legs start to twitch uncontrollably.
When at last she pulls away, I’m breathless and aching for more.
My body trembles with pleasure and the fear subsides; instead of trying to push it down, I give in to its deliciousness and let it settle inside me like a warm glow.
Miss Marilyn always knows exactly what I need.
Even when it scares me, I should trust her to take care of me.
“There’s nothing to be scared of,” she coos. “You want to wear pretty things for these ladies because you know how much fun they’re going to have making you feel extra special, don’t you?”
I nod slowly. It feels right: I want to make them happy. I want to make Marilyn happy. And deep down, even though it makes my heart beat faster and my belly tighten into a ball, I know the truth. It makes me happy, too.
“Good girl.”
The praise sends warmth rushing through me. The smile on my face widens; the butterflies in my tummy transform from nervous fluttering to something warmer and happier.
“We’ll just see how far you get, then,” she says with a wink. She taps me gently on the tip of my nose. “Let’s go!”
She helps me out of the chair and takes my arm, leading me towards the door. My heart pounds in my chest — this is happening so quickly! We reach the doorway and my legs turn to jelly beneath me.
“Miss Marilyn,” I ask suddenly, “what if they don’t like me?”
Her hand wraps around my waist as she draws me close and plants a delicate kiss on my lips. It feels so comforting that my fears melt away instantly. When she pulls back again, her smile seems wider than before.
“They’re going to love you, Jessica.”